The True Enemy
by Alexia C
Summary: An alternate ending of GoT - everything that happened in S8E6 did happen and the story takes over from Daenery's death. Jon and Daenerys are still part of the great war to come.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everybody - this is my first GoT FF - the thing is, I was so upset with the ending that I thought I'd do justice to the best characters in the story, Dany and Jon. Obviously I don't own anything from GOT, I'm just having fun and giving myself (and hopefully others who like this) an ending that satisfies me. (Sorry for the spelling / grammar mistakes, English is my second language but I enjoy it so very much for FF, thanks and I hope you enjoy this. Constructive reviews are always welcome)

**Chapter 1 - Awakening.**

Her eyes opened abruptly and a moan from deep down her throat escaped her lips. She began to breath rapidly, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room. Her fingers began tracing her eyes, nose, lips, and then down her neck, her breasts, until she felt something that wasn't there before… a deep wound, in the middle of her chest, large enough to have been done by a blade. Her fingers trembled as she felt the fresh wound, with dried up blood but with tender flesh. It didn't hurt. She tried to sit, and with a grand effort she managed to do so. She used her hand to put her breasts apart and examine the wound she had just found. It was deep. It was clean, but she knew it was deadly.

Then she remembered….

A kiss, a promise to rule together, to bring a new order, to love each other… broken by the betrayal of the man she had loved the most. Daenerys closed her eyes, and a single tear slid down her eyes. She opened her eyes, and confusion was replaced with sheer hatred. Her mouth was twisted into a grimace, her teeth clenched, her nostrils wide.

"_Jon Snow"_ she mumbled.

Far apart, she heard footsteps. She turned around and couldn't believe what she was seeing.

-My Queen! Said the voice

-Daario? Replied Daenerys.

-Yes, it's me! I will never leave you alone, ever again! You are safe. - He said as he bent his knee to salute the Dragon Queen.

Daenerys was completely naked, and hadn't noticed until Daario looked up, with his mouth half opened in amazement of beholding her again. She covered her breasts and pelvis with her arms, and he quickly took off his cloak and offered her to cover herself. She tried to stand up, but her legs were too weak, she collapsed. He immediately bent down to catch her before she would hurt herself.

-Where am I? - she asked, looking up to meet his intense gaze.

-You are in the Red Temple, in Volantis Your Grace. - A female voice was heard from a corner.

-Who is that? -Asked Daenerys.

-I'm Kinvara, we have met before Your Grace - replied the female voice calmly, who now revealed herself in the light. It was a woman with a red gown, a young woman, with green eyes, a wide smile and fair skin.

Daenerys took a moment to remember, she had met so many people throughout so many years in exile. But once the woman stepped out of the shadows and into a large fire that was burning in the middle of that room, she remembered her. It was the High Priestess of the Red Temple, Kinvara, who served The Lord of Light, who had said she was Azor Ahai.

-How did I get here? - Dany asked, confused and exhausted.

-Your child has brought you here, your Grace.

-My Child? Drogon?

As she said his name, a loud shriek, like a roar but far more terrifying, was heard from outside the temple. There was a balcony that had an incredible view of Volantis, at one side of the room. A full moon was glowing in the dark, clean sky, and she could see the silhouette of her last and only child flying, and screaming loudly. She couldn't help but smile, she felt so much relief to know he was still with her, still alive, and that he had brought her here. She tried to walk there but had to be supported by Daario, who didn't say a word but held her all the way to the balcony.

Drogon kept flying, screaming, celebrating to see his mother back in the world of the living. He landed on top of the building, extended his wings and let out a triumphant shriek to announce everybody that Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons was alive. She smiled widely, and reached up her hand to touch him. Drogon lowered his head and she caressed the tip of his face tenderly, while the dragon whimpered. The bond they shared, between mother and child was far stronger than any other bond between humans.

Then, Drogon lifted his head, expanded his wings once again took flight, and disappeared in the horizon.

Daenerys turned back and found a chair, to rest. Daario placed her safely and took a few steps back, and stood next to Kinvara.

-But… I died… -said Daenerys. Her eyes gazing at her.

-Yes, your Grace. You died. You were brought here 2 days ago. Faith was almost. Word came from across the Narrow Sea that you had perished, and not in combat, but in the hands of your own allies.

Daenerys changed her confused continuance back to the anger, and again whispered "Jon Snow".

The people in Yunkai, Mereen and Astapor are in mourning and demanded a funeral fit for their Queen. Kinvara asked us to give her time to...- Daario stopped talking, cleared his throat, and resumed - It is a miracleyou are here with us... -

Daario continued sharing the plans he was carrying out - We were preparing your funeral, my Queen. You were to go back to Mereen, and would have been buried there, along with Missandei. – said Daario, holding his hands behind his back. - And the Second Sons were to raid Westeros and bring back the head of those who have harmed you and place it in the base of the Pyramid, so people can have the justice they claimed for their fallen Queen.

-Missandei? - She asked with more vigor than she had thought she had left.

-Yes, your Grace. We heard she had been murdered, and you see, the Second Sons have spies everywhere. They brought her body here, and we gave her a proper burial, in the Mereen Pyramid, where she achieved her full bloom and full freedom, where she was the happiest.

-Does Torgo Nudho knows about this?

-No, we haven't been able to contact him. - His pose was now more relaxed, the anxiety of seeing her vanished and all that remained was the joy of having her back.

-Does he know I'm here? Tell him I live, and that I need him now.- demanded Daenerys, recovering her voice and her distinctive commanding style.

-That won't be possible, your Grace – interrupted Kinvara.

Daenerys turned to her -"I'm not asking, I'm commanding Daario to do so."- She told her, her old self back.

-It can't be, nobody must know you came here, and worse yet, that you live. Not yet.

-And why is that? -Daenerys asked annoyed.

-Because _he _would know…

_-He_?

Daario raised an eyebrow to Daenerys, and then back at the priestess.

Kinvara smiled, lowered her gaze and simply said -"You have just come back from the dead. You have been dead for two days, your body functions are starting to work again but with too much effort. You need to recover your energy, your strength, and your full senses. I have prepared a chamber for you in the temple since your arrival, and I can't express how relieved I am to see you use it. I'll ask for food and wine to be brought to you. We shall continue this conversation in the morning."- She bowed, and left the room.

-Wait! - Demanded Daenerys. -I command you to stay and tell me who is "he".

Kinvara didn't even look back, she retreated. Daenerys was too weak to go after her, and too confused to ask guards to stop her. Either way, this wasn't her territory, Volantis was a city she had no power in.

-Daario… she whispered.

-Shhh, everything is alright now… Let me take you to your chamber, please.

Dany nodded. Daario lifted her in his strong arms, and took her to her chambers.

He placed Dany in her bed. A cup of wine, a plate with bread, dried meat, grapes and some dates were placed.

-You need to eat, please… - said Daario.

-I´m not hungry.

-You must be hungry, you just forget. Eat, please.

She smiled, and complied. She had a sip of wine, took a bite from each thing in the plate, but had a terrible time swallowing. It felt different now. Everything tasted different, smelled different, looked different.

Daario got up.

-Where are you going? - She asked.

-You need to rest your Grace.

-Please, stay with me.- her voice was different, he had never heard her speak like that before. Daenerys Targaryen, the strongest woman he's ever met, was asking him to stay with him in a tone that sounded almost like a plea. He could tell she felt desperately lonely and vulnerable.

He smiled, and sat back. Daenerys laid in bed, closed her eyes and fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

A ray of sun coming from the top window announced dawn, and it hit Daenerys straight in the face. She frowned, turned her head to avoid the light. Then, she opened her eyes. She was in a simple room. It had the bed she was lying in, a night table, a rough cupboard and a chair. In that chair, sat Daario Naharis, who smiled at her when she woke up. His elbows were supported by his own legs, and he seemed like he hadn't slept a single minute since he told her he'd stay with her last night. She gasped. For a second, she forgot where she was, and thought she was in that boat, going to Winterfell…

_Jon Snow _– she whispered again. Anger gone, her face was washed with disappointment and sorrow.

Daario smiled again, a sad type of smile. It was the third time he heard her utter this man's name.

-You love him.- He said.

-He killed me. Literally.

-Yes, but you love him.

-I _loved _him.

Daario smiled. He knew she was lying. He didn't press the issue, he got up, and offered her his hand. She took it and stood up.

-How did I get here? -Asked Daenerys.

-The red woman already told you, your child brought you.

-That answer is too vague. I want more details.

-Very well… Drogon carried you from across the narrow Sea. I have no idea how long it took him to fly from Westeros to Volantis. Somehow he sensed he had to bring you to this temple. When Kinvara found you, she sent a raven to Mereen to tell us about you, and what she would attempt. I traveled here as fast as I could.

-Came back from the dead… -Whispered Daenerys.

-You are not the first one to achieve this, I've heard red magic has the power to bring people back from the realm of the dead, but it won't work on everybody or anybody or all the time. Only a handful of men have come back thanks to R'hllor. You are now among them.

-I may be the only woman who have – replied Daenerys.

May be. we should ask your host. - Daario said with a comforting smile, and walked her back to the great hall where she woke up.

-I'm still tired, but most of all, I need to scrub all these awful sensations off my body. Tell Kinvara I´ll be taking a bath. – stated Daenerys as she got up from bed.

-As you order your Grace. - Daario bowed, and went to look for somebody who would prepare her a bath.

A few minutes later, Daenerys laid in a bath tub, with hot steamy water. She supported her head in the edge of the tub, and closed her eyes. She could see everything far clearer now, as if a veil would have been taken away from her. She remembered Viseryon being pierced by the Night King, and a knot in her throat began to form. She also remembered the scorn she felt from the northern people, especially from Sansa Stark. The brutal fight with the army of the dead, and Ser Jorah giving his life and last breath in her arms, without anything in her power to stop death from taking him. A tear ran down her face. Then she remembered Rhaegal falling from the sky after a huge spear pierced through his chest and neck, and his dead body spiraling down into the sea. She was sobbing now. Finally, she remembered Missandei, her last words, and her head being separated from her body. Daenerys couldn't control it anymore and began crying, as she hand't cried since she was a little girl.

She cried for her dead mother, her dead brother, her dead nieces and nephews. She cried for Viserys, remembering his cruelty but also the moments where he had taken care of her. Then remembered Drogo, her first love. Her unborn child, her fertility…. She had suffered too many losses, and she had never allowed herself a moment to grieve. She had always told herself she had to be strong, project herself as an unbreakable leader, a Khalessi, a Queen. It was hard to convince people to follow a woman, and it was impossible to convince them to follow a weak woman, and Daenerys thought that showing feelings was a sign of weakness.

She remembered Rakharo, Irri, Ser Barristan Selmy and his sacrifice. And now, she remembered Daario, the way she had to tell him he'd be left behind, not because she really needed him to rule, but because she needed to get rid of him in a way that wouldn't offend him, even though she was fully aware he loved her, but knew he'd be an inconvenient to form alliances in Westeros.

Finally, she remembered her allies she had gotten in Westeros, or so she thought. Lady Olenna Tyrell, a wise woman, who was murdered by the Kingslayer following Cersei´s commands. Elaria Sand, she never really heard of her again after Cersei took her captive. Yara Greyjoy, who supposedly had taken the Iron Islands in her name. Then she remembered, Lord Varys. Who had betrayed her and she had burned him alive. Then Tyrion Lannister. Remembering Tyrion was especially painful for her. She admired him. She cared for him. She loved him. But he had failed her too many times. He had thrown away the badge she had given him. He had freed the Kingslayer, disobeying her one more time. But also, he had begged her not to attack King´s Landing if the bells rang. And the bells rang. And she simply didn't care.

She thought about that fateful day. Looking back now, she was amazed and horrified of what she had done. She had become everything she said she wouldn't. She burned every mother, father and child unjustified. When she was on top of Drogon destroying the Iron Fleet, she had specifically maneuvered Drogon to avoid any civilian casualty, her attack was precise and lethal on top of military targets. Once they surrendered, everything went black. All she could see were humiliating gazes, judging her, judging her bloodline, her family. She could hear her father screaming as a sword trespassed him from the back, murdered by Jaime Lannister; she could still hear Missandei say "Dracarys" as she faced death by Cersei, and she could smell the fine perfume Cersei Lannister used when she pledged her forces to help the North fight the army of the dead, and betrayed her. Daenerys wasn't in control of herself, she became "the Mad Queen".

She started to have a fit of heaving, and finally had to climb out of the tube to vomit. She vomited everything she had, as if she was trying to exorcise a demon that was inhabiting inside her head, and that had poisoned her soul. When she was done, trying to catch her breath, Daario´s voice came from outside - "Are you all right your Grace? Do you need assistance? – I´m fine. I´ll be out in a second.- she climbed back into the tub.

She resumed her bath, and now her mind drifted to Jon Snow. A heavy sorrow landed on her shoulders. She remembered his bravery, his honor, his loyalty. "Loyalty", she chuckled. But he had always been a man of honor. What she has done must have driven him to the edge to murder her, the horror he had witnessed when she destroyed Kings Landing must have been too much for him to bear, knowing he is part of that destruction, that he could have stopped her and didn't. She wasn't trying to justify him, in her eyes he was a traitor, a killer, a Queenslayer now, and she will have to deal with him later. But for now, she wanted to remember what it was like to be with him before the terrible secret of his parentage came out.

_"The last male Targaryen, the true heir to the Iron Throne._" She mumbled. But even though they were related, she didn't care. Daario was right, she still loved him. This man had put a knife through her heart and took her life, betraying her, and she still loved him, but at the same time, a sense of impotence was driving infuriating her. She took a deep breath and tried to put down the bad feelings that were brewing inside her, she has had too much of them lately, they were exhausting and she reckoned they were exactly what brought her doom. For now, she forgot the grudge she was nursing against Jon, and chose to instead remember the pleasant moments when she was the happiest, by his side. His smell of fur and sweat, his body warming hers in the cold Winterfell weather, his strong arms embracing her, his piercing eyes staring at her, his full lips claiming hers…

She let out a long sigh, wiped the tears from her eyes, and emerged from the tube. Put on a robe, and walked out of the room where she had just cleansed more than just her body. She had cleansed her mind.

As she exited the room, Daario was dutiful standing outside, waiting for her.

She smiled – "Are you going to follow me everywhere I go now?" she asked

-I will be damned if I ever let something happen to you again. I should have never consented to let you go without me by your side, even if it wasn't as your lover, but as your guard. If I had gone with you, none of this woud have happened. I would have killed Jon Snow five times before he even had time to touch the hilt of his dagger. I don´t care you don't love me, Daenerys Stormborn, I do love you, and I will love you until my dead corpse feeds the grass and the worms feast on my flesh.

Daenerys smiled, a sad smile. It was painful for her to have this man love her the way he did, and for her to be unable to reciprocate the feeling. Everything would have been more simple, if she had loved Daario. "He's not the first man to love you, and he won't be the last" - Tyrion had told her after Daario was ordered to stay behind in Mereen and not travel to Westeros with the rest of her army. And the same happened with Jorah, who loved her beyond reason but she couldn't love him back the way he wanted her to. Not the way she still loved Jon Snow.

She stretched her hand to caressed his face. Daario closed his eyes as he felt her touch. She came closer and put a chaste kiss on his cheek. He smiled, he knew that kiss didn't mean what he wanted to, but the total opposite. Yet, he was happy to have her by his side again.

Kinvara was waiting for Daenerys in the large hall, a long conversation was due now that she had rested and gained more strength in her body and especially her mind. She was standing near the fire, her eyes were fixed on the burning tongues, dancing in front of her. Daenerys entered the room, but Kinvara didn't turn back, even though she heard her perfectly well.

Daenerys cleared her throat to make herself notice, but Kinvara still didn't turn back.

-The Queen has entered the room – announced Daario.

-Yes, I am aware – replied Kinvara.

Daenerys frowned for a minute, she was not used to be kept waiting, every need, every command, was always answered with speed and efficiency.

Daenerys stood there for what felt like hours, and finally Kinvara turned around and looked at her. She smiled.

-Your Grace, do forgive me. The Lord of Light doesn't care what monarch is present in a room, and he was showing me things.

-The Lord of Light? - asked Daenerys, in a sardonic tone. Kinvara noticed.

-Tell me something, Daenerys. Do Kings and Queens die?

-You will refer to Queen Daenerys as "_your Grace_", you understand? - ordered Daario.

She didn't even look at him. Her eyes were looking at Daenery's purple eyes intently,

-Yes, of course they die- replied Daenerys blinking rapidly and frowning. _What a silly question _she said to herself.

-Yes, they die. You died. You had a dagger in your heart. When you arrived here, you were pale as the moon, cold as winter rain and frigid as a rock. How do you think you are standing here, right now? Who do you think you have to thank for breathing the air we are breathing in this room?

Daenerys looked embarrassed. She had offended the priestess, who obviously played a crucial part in her being alive, again.

\- I….- Daenerys wanted to say "I'm sorry", but a Queen must never show weakness.

Kinvara cut off – Don't be. I understand this is too much to process and understand. Especially for somebody who has never had faith in anything except in her own fate and fortune."

That was true. Daenerys had never believed in anything really, except her fate to rule the Seven Kingdoms and take what everything was snatched from her family. She had believed in her fortune to have things come always in her favor, even when life hit her the hardest. But she never really believed in anything supernatural, or anybody else besides her. And Jon Snow.

-Do you know why you are here? - Asked Kinvara.

-No.

-Because the Lord of Light isn't done with you yet. You have a part to play in the wars to come.

-Wars… I thought I wanted to fight more wars, to break the wheel… to set everybody free from Tyranny, when the Tyrant was me. I was blind. Blind with hatred, with revenge, with pride, with deception, with fear, with envy, and especially, with loneliness. I don't have those feelings anymore. I don't even want to avenge my own death and hunt down all those who have wronged me. I just want to go home. I thought Westeros was my true home. But when I stood there, and touched that damn chair, the Iron Throne, the object that has represented the glory and downfall of my family, the object I have chased, fought all my life, all I felt was emptiness. And the desire for more. Not anymore though. I'm done fighting.

-And do you know why you don't have those feelings anymore? Why you only seek peace now? - Asked Kinvara

-I suppose because the Lord of Light cleansed me?

Kinvara smiled. - No, Dragon Queen. The Lord of Light doesn't "cleanse" people magically. He doesn't remove burdens, or responsibilities. All he does, is set the path free to walk and fulfill your destiny.

Daenerys frowned. All her life she had felt those awful feelings, but they have intensified in an alarming scale within the last few months. Before she set foot in Westeros, most of them were deeply buried within herself. Her most prominent feelings in the Free Cities were thirst for justice, to do what is right, and to punish those who would harm innocent people. But once she arrived in Dragonstone, those feelings were pushed back by insecurity, ambition, and eagerness to achieve what she thought had been her destiny, and prove all these strangers that the rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms arrived, and that she would be a fair, just and overall, good ruler. Then, the biggest feeling she had was love. Loving Jon Snow was never in her plans, Love had been an utopia, a distraction, a luxury a Queen can't afford. And yet, with him it had been the most intense feeling she had ever experienced, even stronger than her love for Drogo, who had made her a woman and shaped her into what she had become later on.

Jon Snow was different. And she had felt his love for her too. She has never been happier in her entire life, and for the first time ever, she felt complete. Jon completed her. She could feel she could have it all: Realm, Love, a family... Until he discovered they were blood related. His love for her was quenched, or so he demonstrated. At first, she believed it was because now _he wanted the Throne, _but he didn't. He simply couldn't love his recently discovered "aunt" the way a man is supposed to love a woman, the way he had loved her before the truth came out. The result: her love was somewhat crushed by fear, and by humiliation. She had given herself completely to this man, and now he didn't want her. All he wanted was to fulfill his promise to help her take the throne, and she was sure after that, he would leave her. And she couldn't bear that thought. And so, all the negative emotions that come from fear began to blossom in her heart, growing in her mind and contaminating her soul.

After a long pause, she asked - "Yesterday you said "_he would know_" when I wanted Grey Worm to know about my whereabouts. - Who is "he"?

-The true enemy. The one who has been poisoning your soul, and the soul of all the men and women who have crossed your path ever since you crossed the Narrow Sea. The one who will hold men prisoners, and shape himanity into his own version of "what must be".

Daenerys frowned. - Tell me who is that.

\- The Three Eyed Raven. - Replied Kinvara, while a flame intensified in the back.

-The Three Eyed Raven? Brann Stark? A crippled boy? Are you insane?

-That "crippled boy" staged everything that has happened in Westeros. The fact that it was a large mine of Dragonglass was discovered below Dragonstone, and found out by one of his pawns in a book, is no coincidence. Jon Snow was sent to meet you, to convince you to fight the army of the death with your Dragons. The Night King was his natural enemy, he's the only one who could keep him at bay, hidden from the world. It was a terrible price to pay to save mankind, having him wake up to wipe out humanity every few hundred years, in exchange to have humanity free from the strings of The Three Eyed Raven.

-This is madness - said Daenerys, letting out a confused chuckle.

-Think about this, Dragon Queen: why did Sansa Stark hate you so much? Why did Tyrion Lannister, a wise man who knew his family, suggested the idea to bring a Wight to Cersei, knowing full well she'd never bend the knee or help you? You lost one dragon there. Why, even when you fought bravely and hard against the dead, received only contempt and distrust from northerners, instead of at least some gratitude? Why he saw your brother Rhaegal and Lyanna Stark marrying, and then told Jon Snow about it, and right before the fight against the dead? Why he made Lord Varys distrust you so, even though he forged the alliances you had with other families in Westeros?

-How do you know all this? Daenerys was amazed.

\- I told you, the Lord of Light communicates himself to me. He told me about everything that was happening, and he has told me everything that will happen if he's not stopped.

Daenerys kept thinking, it was too strange but somehow it made some sense.

\- Think a little harder. You say all the desire of revenge and destruction is gone now, and all you want to do is go home. Why?

Danerys remained silent. She never gave up, she was not giving up now, she just didn't find any sense in going back to claim the Throne, it didn't matter anymore.

\- The Three Eyed Raven manipulates people at will. He sets snares and watches how people fall into them. He's the one who turned you into a brutal conquerer, a bloodthirsty warrior ready to take lives without a second thought. He's the one who made the fear, the distrust, and especially the hatred gloom in you. He turned you into your own worst nightmare.

Daenerys was breathing heavily now, it made sense. She felt none of that anymore. Even though she had been betrayed now, and even murdered, the desire to return and execute all the usurpers and traitors was gone, and the frenetic wish to rule the Seven Kingdoms and to conquer more and more territories, vanished. She was tired.

-And tell me this, Daenerys Stormborn: when your dragons were growing up, and a farmer came here to tell you about the death of his boy by one of your dragons, what did you do?

-I locked Rhaegal and Viseryon in the base of the pyramid of Mereen to stop them from harming more people. Drogon flew away. It crushed my soul to do that to my children, but I couldn't have them destroying homes and taking innocent lives.

-And what did you do in King's Landing, when the bells sounded and the city surrendered?

-I burned every last one of the people in the city, destroyed their homes, burned them all. I became my father - Daenerys choked on her voice full of remorse

-Tell me this: Right before you decided to destroy the city, what did you hear, what did you see, what did you feel?

-I felt hatred. I felt disgust. That they surrendered so easily. That everything I had fought for was there, ready for me to take. But those people, who were surrendering now and pleading for mercy, had taken everything from me. They had killed my entire family and casted me and my brother to exile. I felt the urge to avenge them. They didn't deserve to live in the new world i was creating, it had to be completely destroyed to build a new one without all the infamy of the past. I saw the Red Keep and imagined all sorts of plots that were designed there to overthrow my family. I saw the Red Keep, and saw Missandei's fearless face before she uttered her last words, "Dracarys". I saw the Red Keep and saw Cersei's smirk, mocking me. I heard the sound of the scorpions firing at me and killing Rhaegal. I was in control of myself, but at the same time, I was not. I didn't want to stop. It felt right. It felt glorious. It felt I was doing justice.

-Who do you think planted those thoughts and feelings in you, and triggered them at that precise moment?

-Daenerys mouth was half opened in disbelief.

-He must be stopped – concluded Daario.

-Yes, he must be stopped. But you can't stop him. Not alone anyway. – Kinvara stated, her face completely serious now.

-If I can't stop him, then why did the Lord of Light bring me back?

-Because you can stop him but not by yourself. The Three Eyed Raven can only be stopped by Azor Ahai.

-I thought I was Azor Ahai, and that his or her mission was to end the long night, and the long night has ended. The Night King is gone– replied Dany.

-No, I was wrong. You are not Azor Ahai. And yes, he's to end The Long Night, but not necesarilly the one brought by the Night King, but brought by the Three Eyed Raven, who will sink humanity into darkness and will control the minds, feelings and will of anybody he desires. And he'll only grow more powerful with time.

-Then who is it? Jon Snow? He also came back from the dead by the power of the Lord of Light.

-No, he is not Azor Ahai. Although, like you, he still has a very, very important role to play.

-Then who is it and why are we necessary? Tell me, who is Azor Ahai? – Daenerys demanded, raising her voice.

Kinvara smiled, approached Dany, extended her hand, and touched her womb.

Daenerys felt something she didn't feel inside her in many, many years.

-That's impossible. _When the sun rises in the west, and sets in the east_… - Dany mumbled.

-Your child brought you here, Daenerys Stormborn. This child.

Daenerys couldn't believe it, yet inside her she knew it was true. She felt life. A life was inside her. It was Jon Snow's child. Conceived from two Targaryens, one Wolf-Dragon and a full blooded Dragon. Ice and fire. Two who had fought against the death, defeated death, who had died and who have come back from the realm of the dead.

-The Three Eyed Raven thinks you are dead, so you are no threat to him. He will, however, sense your presence if you approach Westeros. You will be safe here, as long as he doesn't visit the Free Cities. Everything that is in contact with him, every place, is an open map for him to roam around and find your past, your present, and forge your future at his will.

-So I am to stay here with my arms crossed while he manipulates the lives and story of everybody in Westeros. – replied Daenerys, annoyed and angered.

-Yes, for the time being. Your time will come, powerful Queen, to redeem yourself from the great harm you have done to the people in that country. Meanwhile, your presence must not be known in Westeros.

Daenerys lowered her head, sighed.

-There is however, another problem – Kinvara said.

-What is that? Asked Daenerys.

-The Lord of Light must guide the way to the bringers of Azor Ahai, both of them.

Daenerys lifted her head and looked at Kinvara, defying her. She knew exactly what the Red Priestess meant.

-No. - she firmly stated.

-We must find Jon Snow, bring him here and expect further instructions from the R'hllor. - Kinvara replied calmly.

-There must be another way – Daenerys claimed, dreading the moment when she'll meet face to face the man who had cowardly assassinated her, but who she was still in love. The man that had showed her true happiness but who must pay for his crime, and she didn't want to think about revenge. Her feelings, good and bad, were stirring again inside her.

-There is no other way, your Grace. It must be done or humanity will become a puppet for the Third Eyed Raven.

-I'll bring him here- said Daario

-What? – asked Daenerys, looking at Daario's serious expression.

\- Don't worry. I'll bring him here safely, but I can't promise any of you I won't break his nose and a few ribs when I encounter him. – he said touching the hilt of his Arakh.

-How will you find him? For all we know he could be dead as well. I suppose that somebody must have figured out he killed me. Perhaps Grey Worm already put a spear through his chest, or perhaps Drogon avenged me.– Daenerys didn't know how to feel with the idea of Jon gone forever from this world.

-He is alive, I sense it – replied Kinvara.

-Like I said, The Second Sons have spies all around Essos and Westeros. You leave the task of finding him and bringing him here to me. It will be done. – bowed Daario and crossed his arms.

Daenerys nodded, and looked at Kinvara.

-One more thing, Dragon Queen.

-Please don't tell me we have to bring somebody else from Westeros.

Kinvara smiled – Command your dragon to stay in Essos, and if possible, to go to the Sea Grass. If the Third Eyed Raven senses Drogon, he will try to take control of him and the result could be disastrous.

Daenerys nodded again.

-Well, now that all is explained and settled, I will retreat and travel to the other free cities, informing the red priests of the fullfiment of the prophecy. Azor Ahai shall be born, and shall be the liberator of all mankind.

She bowed, and retreated into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2: No other choice

Hi everybody - thank you all for all the favs and follows this story has received, and a huge thank you to the kind reviews. You have motivated me to update sooner.

—————

Chapter 2 - No other choice.

The sun was setting fast, and once it did, staying outdoors could mean a death sentence. Everybody picked up their snares, traps and packed all the game they gathered that day. It wasn't the best day for hunting, but they did manage to hunt a few rabbits, with not a lot of meat in them, but at least the furs looked very well preserved. They could create some clothes for the raw winter they were experiencing.

A big man was drinking from a horn, he was really chugging the liquid that smelled even worse than the dead animals they were carrying. His hand extended the horn to a shorter man who was walking a few steps behind, carrying a few animal carcasses and some spears.

\- No. I've already told you, I don't like that thing you drink. - said the short man whose head was covered with a hood made from fur.

\- You're still a pretty boy. Confess you miss drinking that insipid red piss you southerners call "wine". - replied the large man, wiping his beard with the sleeve of his coat.

The short man didn't answer back, but removed his hood to see the way better. It was the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, The White Wolf, The King in the North, the last Targaryen alive. Aegon Targaryen walked among his people. He preferred to bury that name that had only given him problems and sorrow. His name was still Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard. Or so he chose to believe.

-The sun is setting fast, we need to pick up the pace if we want to arrive to our camp before nightfall - said Jon as he adjusted his gear to make it easier to carry it.

\- OI ! HURRY UP YOU LAZY BASTARDS! Your ballsacks will freeze if you don't move your damn feet faster and get to camp!! - commanded the big manwho was no other than Tormund Giantsbane - Jon Snow's friend and in a way, his new Lieutenant among the Free Folk. They have chosen to follow Jon and in an unespoken way, he was the new leader. Tormund was the second in command.

Jon smiled - You sure know how to motivate your men don't you? - he replied in an amused tone. Tormund growled and went back to yell some more to the other hunters who were accompanying him.

-Where's Ghost? - Asked Jon raising his voice, stopping for a second to see if he was around.

-Last time I saw him, he was running after something he sniffed. Relax, he'll return soon. He always does. - answered Tormund from afar.

In a few more minutes, they reached camp. It was more than just an improvised camp, it was more like a small village they had built. The houses were rather precarious, certainly not fit for the harsh winter that was upon them, but they kept improving it, expanding it and making the homes of each family or clan a bit stronger. Jon had his own hut that wasn't shared with anybody else. A luxury only the new King Beyond the Wall could afford, even if he officially didn't hold that title.

The men took the game they hunted to a big hut in the middle of the camp/village, so the women could skin them and prepare them. The Free Folk didn't have private property, they shared everything: food, clothing, weapons. Only the ones in higher ranks could have private things such as their own weapon, their own gear, and only the higher ones in rank had their own accommodations. Jon had earned all those exclusive benefits in a matter of months, ever since he was banished from Westeros, back to the wall.

Jon had always been a quiet man, but after what happened in the Throne Room, he had become even more reserved, and more melancholic.

Tormund always had high spirits, always joking, always taunting Jon but always respecting him. He was the only friend he had left. Him and Ghost.

Jon would join in all the social events, meetings, gatherings and celebrations the free folk had, and tonight was no exception. Men had returned with some food, and all of them were safe and sound. Jon would rarely talk, just eat, listen to their stories and laugh, or occasionally share one or two stories about the Great War against the dead, his time as a crow, his family, and the traditions and costumes the people from Westeros had. There was only one topic everybody knew that Jon hated to talk about, or even remember.

The Free Folk were a merry congregation, even when they lived in such a complicated state of near famine, with dangerous animals lurking everywhere, and diseases that sometimes took almost half of the population. They were happy because they were free, and they all were equals. Jon fell in love with that idea when he first met them. He had always been looked down because of his last name, or rather his lack of last name. "Ned Stark's bastard" it's who he was, how they referred to him, how he was introduced to strangers. And Lady Catelyn despised him, even though it wasn't his fault he was a bastard. Of course, she didn't know the truth. He had wondered, if she would have known the truth, would she had been good to him? Would she have become a foster mother and treat him with tenderness? Would she had loved him?

\- No use thinking that - he told himself. Even when his mind was always on guard, sometimes it drifted back to that day. The day he had become a Queenslayer, a murderer, a man who had lost his honor, but worse yet, the love of his life.

When he felt his mind was traveling back to that day, or when something ignited a memory of her, an image, a smell, a sensation, he always shut his eyes and shook his head. It was the only thing that cleared his mind when it began to torture him.

He didn't even allow himself to remember her name. He couldn't. He knew that if he started thinking about her, he would never stop, and the self hatred he already felt inside him would grow like weeds and would eat him alive.

\- "It doesn't feel right" - he had told Tyrion. He knew that she had done an unforgivable crime. She had lost all reason and all sense of righteousness. She had become a monster, and he was the only one who could stop her and save the kingdom from more massacres. Yet, it simply didn't feel right...

Jon hadn't noticed but he was quieter tonight than any other night. His mind had sunk into a sea of questions and he wasn't aware he was sailing those perilous waters. Tormund approached him, patted him in the back so hard it hurt Jon and growled.

\- Ha Ha! You're such a little girl Jon Snow! I barely touched you! - he said and offered him some of his sour milk.

\- Jon smiled widely, and accepted the beverage. He drank at least three large gulps and grimaced at the awful taste. But Tormund was right, it was different from the wine he was used to drink. That thing was strong enough to knock down Sandor Clegane himself, and it was exactly what he needed to shut up his brain for a while. A few minutes later, he began feeling a bit weak, his head was spinning and he couldn't understand what people were saying.

Tormund noticed that, he laughed and said - "I think it's time you retire to your palace Lord Snow, or you'll puke your guts out in front of all your people and lose respect even from little children" - He helped Jon get on his feet but he was so drunk he couldn't stand. People laughed not as a mockery but as a triumph to see Jon finally let down his guard and become comfortable enough around them to get completely wasted. Tormund picked him up like a kid and carried him to his hut.

He entered the hut and put him on the pile of furs that was supposed to be a bed. -Sleep tight sunshine - teased Tormund, laughed and left him.

-_Dany_... Jon mumbled before he was unconscious.

——

Jon's head was killing him, it was as if a blacksmith was forging the weaponry of an entire army inside his brain. He frowned, took his head and opened his eyes. It was still dark, and there was a silence that only the wind whistling outside broke every now and then.

Jon wanted to get up to get himself a some water, but something felt wrong. He always had an instinct to detect danger, and he felt it right now.

\- _it's probably just the goat's milk inside me_ \- he whispered to himself. Then, he heard a very low wood creak under some weight. He ran to where his sword, Longclaw was and unsheathed it.

\- Who is there - he asked.

-If you heard me, it's only because I wanted you to hear me. I'm sick of you lying there like a corpse, and me waiting for you to respond - replied the voice of a man, with a strange accent he didn't know where it could come. It wasn't a Free Folk accent, and he was certain it wasn't northern either, nor highborn nor lowborn.

-Who are you? Asked Jon.

-Relax, you don't know me. We haven't met each other before. - the man replied, he was sitting in a table Jon used to eat, write, read, etc. He was sitting with his legged crossed, leaning on his elbows that supported his weight over his crossed legs. He looked older than him, but still in his best years. He had a beard, dark hair, tanned skin. His outfit wasn't known, he didn't look like a sell sword from Westeros, or a bandit. Or from Westeros at all. Perhaps Dornish? They were tanned and their outfits were different than them rest of the men in the realm.

-What are you doing here? How did you get in? -Asked Jon alarmed.

\- Well, to be honest I've seen pigpens with better defenses than this whole camp. And being brutally honest, I've been watching you sleep for a while. I was curious.

-What? Jon frowned and his anger began to rise.

-I was curious to know what is that makes you so goddamn special, Jon Snow.

\- What? Who in the seven hells are you? Who sent you?!

\- Ugh I don't have time for this bullshit. Listen. I've come here to take you with me. Let's not make this more difficult alright?

\- Take me with you? Where to? - Jon's voice was a mix between anger and irony, and a tad of worrying.

\- You are not in position to ask questions. So come with me voluntarily, or I'll take you with me dragging you out of this shithole. Either way, you are coming with me. The state of your well-being depends entirely of your decision.

\- You'll have to take me dead. -Jon clenched his teeth, his look fierce. He pointed Longclaw towards the man.

\- I was afraid you'd say that. - Replied the man as he quickly jumped on his feet and took the hilt of his weapon, a weapon similar to the ones the Dothraki used.. a large hilt with q curved blade, almost as sharp as Valyrian steel. Jon realized this man couldn't be from Westeros.

\- The thing is: if you don't come with me voluntarily or without making any noise, I'll whistle and my men will butcher this poor people, and it'll be in your conscience. Although from all the stories I've heard about you, you don't really have any honor left to care, right?

Jon panicked.

\- I'll explain why: nobody must know I've come to take you. I want your people to believe you deserted them. If they know you were taken by force, I'm sure they'll look for you and start asking questions. We don't want that. - the stranger said as he smiled.

-Who are you? Who sent you? - Asked Jon, realizing this man was nothing but a hired killer.

\- I'll oblige you. My name is Daario Naharis. Who sent me? That I can not tell you.

-Tell me if you want me to go with you - replied Jon.

Daario smiled, and with a swift strike knocked Jon to the ground. - I've wasted enough time here. And there is no other choice pretty boy, you are coming with me. - said Daario as he lifted Jon in his arm and carried him on his shoulder. He left the hut undetected, and with a snap of his fingers, at least a dozen of shadows passed by him, leaving the huts of the other people and vanishing in the dark.

————

Jon woke up tied in a chair, in what seemed like a cellar. Everything around him was wood: floor, walls, ceiling, and it smelled awful, damp. He was wearing his pants, boots and a large shirt, like a night gown. His furs gone. He lifted his gaze and saw a man guarding him, looking very similar to the man who had attacked him.

-Captain: he's awake. - yelled the guard.

He heard the steps on top of him, and turned his head to see what seemed like a skylight. It was the only source of light in that place, that and a dim lamp in the far corner. A manly figure descended from the skylight, and the whole place began to rock. Jon realized he was in a ship.

The man patted the guard on the back and with his head indicated him to leave. The guard understood and left them alone.

-Hello. Said the man who had introduced himself as Daario Naharis.

-Why have you taken me? Asked Jon.

-I'm simply following orders. He replied.

-Has somebody hired you to kill me? - Jon asked.

Daario laughed. - Jon Snow, if I wanted you dead, you would have maggots coming out of your eyes by now. - Daario approached him and cut off his bindings. Jon massaged each wrist and moved his shoulders to ease his muscle pain.

-Am I going to be executed in front of somebody? Is that why you're taking me alive? - inquires Jon as he moved his arms in a circular way.

\- I doubt it, but I wouldn't rule that out. - He offered him some water he carried in a wine skin. Jon couldn't afford to play proud now, he was extremely thirsty so he accepted it and drank the entire content, to the last drop. He returned the wineskin and nodded in appreciation.

They stood in front of each other for what seemed like an eternity. Daario kept examining him and made Jon very uncomfortable. Jon had enough.

\- What's the matter? You fancy men? - he asked annoyed.

Daario laughed - No. But even if I would, I honestly can't find a single trait in you that would result attractive. You're not very tall, your face is dull, you look like you got a stick up your arse, always frowning. You strike me like a complete bore. - said Daario with a smirk crossing his arms.

\- If I had a weapon with me I could show you my biggest trait: I would split you in half. - Jon's tone was defying.

Daario laughed again. - are you challenging me, Jon Snow?- he asked amused.

\- Aye, I'm challenging you. If I win, I want you to let me go. If I lose, I'll stop protesting and go to whatever fate awaits me. -

\- And here I thought this trip was going to be a drag. Very well. I accept your challenge. I like fair fights so rest until tonight. I'll have my people bring your meal for you to gain straight. See you then.

Daario winked and left, although the same guard immediately went down to look for Jon.

Hours passed and Jon had managed to eat, drink and sleep. He felt like himself again, his strength fueling his desire to fight.

Another guard came with a torch and simply said "it is time". The guard who was with Jon nodded, and stretched his arm to show Jon which way he had to go.

Jon climbed up the ladder to the deck of the ship, and what he saw was intimidating. A crew of at least 50 men, all wearing similar attire with leather and some metal, all of the carrying a torch. Some of them had drums and began a tune that sounded like the prelude of a savage battle.

One man came to him and gave him his sword, Longclaw. Jon was surprised. He thought he'd never see his sword again. He smiled, grabbed it firmly and unsheathed it. The crowd dispersed and formed a circle, revealing Daario getting ready for battle.

Daario took a dagger in his left hand and his Arakh on his right hand. He moved his neck as if to stretch his muscles, and soon the drum's beat intensified. He stood in front of Jon. The drums stopped.

\- I am Daario Naharis. I am captain and commander of The Second Sons. You, Jon Snow, have challenged me to combat. Normally, this combat would be to death, but my orders are to take you alive. But I'm a man of my word. If you win, you can slay me and my men will take you back to where we took you, unharmed. But if I win, unfortunately I can't kill you and dump your useless carcass to the sea, so regardless of the result, you will live. But, you'll go to the place we are taking you without asking any more damn questions, and will obey every command from all my men or me. Understood?

Jon nodded.

\- And the combat rules are: there are no rules. Begin!

The drums began a furious pace, and men began cheering and yelling. Both Jon and Daario took a fighting stance, moving around each other, studying the moves of the adversary. It was Daario who threw the first blow, and cut Jon's right arm. A superficial wound. He was taunting him. The crew cheered, the drums kept sounding like a thunderstorm.

Jon hissed, but didn't lose his concentration. He kept studying Daario's moves and realized he was extremely fast both in mind and in body. To overpower this formidable adversary would take everything he had in him.

Daario threw another blow with his dagger that Jon deflected with his sword. The clash of metal made the crowd go wild.

Jon thew a massive blow this time that Daario has no trouble dodging, moving swiftly to one side and then bending down and steeping back. Jon took fighting stance again and lifted his sword. The crew kept cheering and growing impatient with the fight. They wanted to see their captain defeating that pompous Westerosi.

Daario began a series of swift attacks with his Arakh and dagger that Jon had trouble dodging and deflecting, but he walked away almost unharmed. Just a minor cut on his left biceps.

Daario raised his eyebrows - "not bad... you are evolving from worthless to incompetent!" - He taunted Jon, but he knew better than to let his guard down for a man with a big mouth.

Jon threw an attack that caught Daario switching his fighting stance, and managed to cut his left leg. Blood began staining his pants. Daario looked down, the crowd yelled angry and the drums intensified. Jon knew this was a decisive moment.

Daario looked at his leg, and the looked at Jon. He was not going to fail in his mission, and he was definitely not going to be defeated in his own ship in front of his men. His look changed, his mocking face gone and transformed into a warriors face.

Daario frowned and launched himself against Jon with a series of short distance attacks that Jon deflected, until Daario with a quick and inexplicable movement dropped to the floor and with his legs threw Jon to the floor. He fell heavily, his sword flying away from him. Daario got up with a jump like a cat, dropped on top of Jon and put his forearm on Jon's throat while his other arm held a dagger about to pierce his right eye.

Both men breathed heavily, drums stopped sounding and men cheered. The fight was over. Jon looked at Daario defiantly, his nostrils wide with anger.

Daario looked at Jon with hatred for just another moment, then his features softened and his mocking expression back. He got up, and offered his hand to Jon. He reluctantly accepted and got back on his feet.

\- well congratulations Jon Snow. I've been cut only three times in my years of fighting with the Second Sons and the fighting pits. This is the third one by the way. - Daario said as he ripped off a piece of cloth from his shirt and tied it to his wounded leg.

Jon nodded, aknowledging his own defeat but somehow proud that he was among the men who had harmed this formidable warrior. He has fought hundreds of men, but he has never seen a fighting style like Daario's. He was amazed.

Daario went to pick up Longclaw, and threw it to one of his men. - We'll be taking that for the moment. Cheer up. If the winds favor us, we will arrive tomorrow before sundown. - he said and with an order in a language he didn't understand, men dispersed while one of them pushed him back to the place he was being held.

———

Jon couldn't sleep. His body ached from the battle. Men had burned his cuts with a red hot poker to avoid infection. It hurt him terribly bad but at least he was sure he'd heal soon.

His mind was burning him with questions. "second Sons"? He had never heard of them before. Not by Maester Amon, Commander Mormont or his bookworm friend Sam. He knew now they were fierce warriors, led by a man who was adamant on keeping his promise, or contract to take him alive, wherever they were going.

Jon began to think why would he be taken alive across the Narrow Sea. He knew Daenerys was famous in Essos, and these men were taking him to that continent. He assumed they were hired killers that abducted him to take him in front of the new rulers, whoever inherited Dany's realms and would be publicly executed. Made sense. Word of her death must have traveled to these lands a while ago.

Every time his heart ventured to think about her name, his heart ached, his chest felt like it would implode. He closed his eyes and tried to make the thought go away. But this time he couldn't.

_"It doesn't feel right goddamn it_! - whispered Jon to himself. - _but I had to... otherwise she... _\- he kept talking to himself - _I betrayed her. I bent the knee and betrayed her. With a kiss._ \- Jon was breathing heavy now - _she had to be stopped. She had to_\- his soliloquy continuing - _you could have been there for her. Counseled her. Guide her. Instead, you murdered her. She died in your arms, she trusted you and you put a dagger in her heart _\- Jon closed his eyes and began panting.

The memory of the first time he saw her, sitting in that throne in Dragonstone made him shiver and his breathing erratic. Her beauty had caught him off guard, but what really amazed him was the determination, the strength, even the stubbornness she displayed. At first it was annoying, then he felt more and more that confidence, that dominance that only monarchs must feel.

He has fought his feelings every day while he was in Dragonstone trying to convince her to help the north without him bending the knee. He knew the northern wouldn't forgive him.

But then he had seen the generosity, the fierceness, the solidarity she had when she rescued him and his party from the Night King, risking her own life and her dragon's life, where she actually lost one.

When he woke up and saw her sitting next to him, he knew it was useless to resist. He loved her. He had fallen in love with her like a boy. But she was a queen, a real one. He was a bastard, "The King in the North" a title that didn't really exist. How could she love him the way he did?

But he noticed she was so worried, squeezing his hand and crying in happiness when he woke up, that she had to feel something. She lost one of her children to help him, and she has proven herself worthy of being followed. So he bent the knee and became a subject to her service.

After all the disaster that was negotiating with Cersei, and sailing from King's Landing to Winterfell, he couldn't stand it any longer. He had to have her. Or at least know that she didn't want him back.

He had walked to her chambers with fear in his mind but with desire in his heart. When he knocked and she let him in, it was the beginning of a new time for him. Their lovemaking was the best thing it had ever happened to him. The Gods knew he had loved Ygritte with all his heart, but this was a different kind of love. It wasn't an innocent first love, it was an ardent, unstoppable love and devotion. He knew she felt love for him too.

The few days they spent on that boat was the best days of his entire life, even knowing that death was only a few days away.

He cursed the day he knew he was her nephew. Being the son of the last Targaryen and Lyanna Stark was the cruelest revelation he had ever endured. He preferred to be a bastard than to be the rightful heir to the throne. All the pressure that everybody put on him, and the clear fear that now Daenerys felt to her right to the throne had ruined what he had. And while incest was normal among Targaryens, he couldn't handle the fact that they were blood related. Dany didn't seemed to care, but he did. And he began rejecting her over, and over again.

\- _there's just so much a woman can take _\- he told himself. He still didn't know how to feel about it. He still loved her (and hated himself every day more and more), he still wanted her, he still dreamed about all the times they made love with longing, but at the same time something inside him kept telling him it was wrong, or at least awkward.

His mind violently drifted back to the day he had killed her. He remembered kissing her fiercely, she kissing him back with all the passion she had, and then his hand reaching to his dagger and plunging it into her heart. As he felt the cold metal penetrating her flesh, both of them opened their eyes. His eyes were full of shame and remorse, her eyes just realizing what had happened as life left her body and the fire in her pupils shutting off.

Feeling her dead weight in his arms was the worst sensation he has ever felt. He knew his heart died that day with her. She committed a crime that made her worthy of her death, but his heart heard no reason: he still loved her, and he killed her.

Jon's vision became blurry with all the tears that began to form in his eyes. He frowned trying to get rid of them, but he couldn't. He let them run freely down his face and he hid his face in his hands.

\- LAND AHOY! a voice yelled from deck and men's hurried steps could also be heard.

Jon was taken out of his feverish state of mind and back to reality. They had reached their destination, and soon his fate will be known.

-


	3. Chapter 3- Revelations

**Hi everybody, thanks for the heads up about the chapter uploading with code - it happens sometimes and it sucks. Thanks to those who are following the story, to those who like it, and a big thank you to those who leave constructive reviews :)**

**CHAPTER 3 - Revelations**

Months had passed since Daenerys came back to the world of the living. Her pregnancy was already evident to everybody, although for the sake of her unborn child and her own, she did her best to hide it from most people. Since she felt she had been defeated, and under the Dothraki tradition, she cut her hair, and undid her braids. She would not sport them anymore as trophies, not unless she would earn them again.

She still lived in Volantis, but Kinvara had asked her to maintain a low profile and remain close to her. Daenerys was now living in a small cottage in the gardens of the Red Temple of Volantis, with very few people who would have access to see her. Only Kinvara, Daario were allowed close to her. She was always guarded by the Second Sons; Daario had insisted that she would never be unguarded again. Most of the time, he was her personal bodyguard, but he had assigned his most loyal Lieutenant to guard her in his absence, while he was looking for Jon Snow.

What Daenerys had most now was time. Time to reflect, time to imagine, time to plan. Every time she had remembered what she did while she was riding Drogon, her heart would race and her breath would come in gasps. She couldn't remember the moment perfectly clear, but in her dreams she would revive them again, but this time she would see everything in third person, as a Kings Landing citizen, watching her parents burn alive, her children, herself… She would hear the screams of people in panic, people yelling names trying to find their loved ones in the middle of chaos, the sound of people being crushed to death in a human avalanche, trying to flee danger. The sound of women being raped by soldiers, swords piercing flesh, and on top of all, the shrieks of a monstrous beast burning everything in its path, commanded by a ghost.

She would always wake up sweating, breathing with difficulty. She would calm down and caress her womb, making the child within her calm too. The creature would kick and move inside her, so she'd tenderly caress her belly and immediately would feel how the movement ceased.

She knew these nightmares would torment her until the day she'd die, and she never complained, she figured it was a very small price to pay for the horrors she had caused.

Daenerys was incredibly lonely. Daario was her only companion, and with him gone, all she had was sells words guarding her, and the priests and priestess of the temple who were like monks. Lots of them were mute, or had taken a vow of silence, and would wander around the temple and its gardens without even looking at her. She had her every need covered, she had people bring her all the meals, prepare her baths, give her clothing. But distrust was the base of all the cares she received. Daario had insisted that one of his guards must taste the food before she would actually eat it. She had protested, but in the end gave in.

Daenerys had fallen in a dull, but peaceful routine while she was staying in the Red Temple. She would begin her day with a long, hot bath, would eat her food, walk around the gardens which were starting to annoy her because by now she knew them by heart, have lunch, meditate alone in her chambers, and finally end her day with supper and then back to her house. She had no one to talk to. Kinvara would rarely visit her, and when she did, she was more concerned with the wellbeing of the child than of her. Almost the entire conversation, quick as it was, revolved around the unborn child of Daenerys and Jon. Dany again didn't protest, she should be dead if it wasn't for her child.

_A Targaryen alone is a terrible thing_– she said to herself, and smiled. She knew she wasn't really alone; she wasn't the only or last Targaryen. Even if Jon Snow died, she would have her baby, who would be a Targaryen. She still couldn't believe how she was pregnant, after what Mirri Maz Duur had told her. She had been many times with Daario before Jon and not once she had the fear of being with child, or even considered the possibility. Then with Jon, she had actually told him she couldn't bear a child, and all the times they were together, the possibility of a pregnancy never once crossed her mind. _– "It must be something to do with Targaryen blood_" – she thought, for her, there was no other explanation.

Daenerys strolled the gardens, wandering, lost in her thoughts. She was her only companion now, and she had come to terms that she would have to face the consequences of her acts soon, but at the same time, she refused to be an exiled, forgotten woman who had struggled her life to recover her birthright, only to lose it and never trying again. And worse yet, to be a coward who decided to hide herself back in Essos and spend the rest of her days in solitude and oblivion.

_"The mother of Dragons, Daenerys Stormborn, the last of House Targaryen, the rightful heir to the throne, the unburnt, forgotten…_"-she whispered to herself. She felt some pity for herself. Not long ago, she was the most feared person in Westeros. She wasn't loved, and the gods knew she craved for the love she had felt by all the people she had liberated, but she only felt that in Essos, never in Westeros. Either way, everybody had their eyes on her. Everybody knew that the daughter of Aerys Targaryen had returned to claim the throne that Robert Baratheon had stolen from the Targaryen dynasty. Everybody talked about how she had somehow brought 3 dragons with her, even though in the end she only had one, more than enough to put the entire kingdom on their knees begging for mercy.

Her old self would try to suffocate her now and then, begging her to leave that awful self-imprisonment, to call back Drogon, call her unsullied, her Dothrakis, and take Westeros once again, only this time doing things differently, smarter, wiser, and definitely not murdering innocents alive. She had worked her entire life so hard for the throne, and now that she had to give it up entirely made her entire core shake and furiously protest. Part of her wanted to banish the Starks for betraying her. After all, she had saved them in the Long Night. Had she not agreed to help Jon Snow, they would all be dead, including Cersei and the entire population of Westeros. She could have refused and stay in Dragonstone to wait for the storm to pass, like Cersei did. She could have watched every man, woman and child fall under the Wights and White Walkers blades, see them joining their army, and take over Kings Landing. After everybody would be dead, she could have figured out a way to destroy the Night King and rule the entire Kingdom without a problem. - _"but If they all would be dead, what is there for me to rule?"_she asked herself. The moment she had vowed to help Jon Snow, had been the moment to seal her doom. She lost Viseryon, Rhaegal, Jorah and Missandei in this war. She had lost Tyrion as well, even though he is alive, at least as far as she knew. She had lost Varys. Yara Greyjoy lost her brother.

"_I wish I could do things differently, go back in time and do things differently" _– she told herself. But she knew she couldn't. The only person who could go back in time was The Three Eyed Raven, and it was him who had made her act the way she did. It was him who had played her, Jon, the Starks, everybody and make them all turn against her, and she go insane with insecurity, fear and hatred.

She had no idea how things ended up in Westeros. She knew Bran Stark was King, which seemed so strange and yet made so much sense after everything she had thought happened in Westeros. But what happened to the people who survived the attack in Kings Landing? What happened to her loyal vassals? Yara Greyjoy, the Martells in the south… she was sure everybody else was loyal to Jon Snow.

As she kept walking aimlessly, a voice shouted loud, and another replied.

-"_They're here!_Shouted a large man on the lookout post – _"Prepare the horses_" – replied another one. Daenerys climbed some stairs to the top of the gardens, to a terrace that had a perfect view of Volantis pier, and saw Daario's ship docking. Her heart stopped for a second.

_Jon Snow_– she murmured. She didn't know how she would receive him. She could receive him as the traitor he was, order her soldiers to put him in chains and shove him inside a dark, damp dungeon until she knew what to do with him.

Or she could send the Lord of Light to the seven hells, and have a public execution in Mereen, for everybody to see what happens when you betray The Mother of Dragons.

She watched the men descend the vessel, and she could distinguish Daario very easily. He knew exactly where to look to see if Dany was waiting for him. He must have spotted her, for he raised her arm to greet her. She smiled.

-Your Grace – Kinvara approached Daenerys and grabbed her in the arm. Dany gasped in surprise.

\- I'm sorry to have frightened you. You are needed in the main hall of temple. We need to start preparing ourselves for the great war. Come.

Daenerys looked to the pier again but all she saw were soldiers, she never saw Jon. Maybe he was dead? Maybe he wasn't found? She protested but Kinvara didn't even cared to hear her opinion, she simply took her to the Main Hall.

He couldn't bear the stench of humidity, salt and his own clothes another minute. Jon had been abducted many days ago, and not once he had the chance to refresh himself. In the cellar he was held, they just gave him a bucket to empty his vowels and piss, and the smell had penetrated into his nostrils and stayed in his brain. All he smelled was shit, piss, sweat, rotten planks and salt.

When he finally felt the ship docking, a sense of relief came over him. Wherever the hell he was, couldn't be worse than that damn ship. Even if he was to be executed as soon as he set foot in that place.

He heard the footsteps of the soldiers above moving things, unloading crates, disembarking in general.

His guard took his sword, walked behind Jon, grabbed him by the arm and pushed him, indicating him to walk. Jon walked and climbed the stairs, the light was blinding him. He hadn't seen daylight in… he had no idea how much time had passed since he was taken, since he fought Daario, and now... must be days, weeks perhaps.

He raised his hand to cover his eyes from sunlight, and saw the Captain of the Second Sons standing in the pier, waving at somebody in the top of a large fortress, that had a massive fire in the very top of the edification. He raised to see who he was waiving, perhaps that was the person who had hired these thugs to kidnap him. He didn't see anybody, just the shadow of a woman that was moving.

Then he began to look his surroundings, and didn't see anything that would strike him as familiar. He already deduced he was taken across the Narrow Sea, but he had no idea to which part exactly. He had learned in Maester Luwin's lessons about Essos, the continent across the Narrow Sea. He knew about Braavos, Pentos, Myr, Volantis, part of the called "Free cities". He had also heard about Slavers Bay, the place where Daenerys had dedicated her efforts and life to abolish slavery before deciding to go to Westeros. He knew the Dothrakis had enormous grounds to ride, to pillage small villages. But he had never seen any of those places, only heard about the Giant Guardian of Braavos. And he saw no giant, so he assumed he was not in Braavos.

-Where are we? -He asked a soldier. He smiled and pushed him harder, making Jon trip and fall on the deck of the ship. Men laughed, Daario turned to see.

-Ah. So, here we are. Welcome to Volantis, Jon Snow. – Daario revealed.

-Volantis? -He repeated.

-Yes, Volantis. Now, if you'll follow me please, we are expected.

-What are you going to do with me?

-Don't you get tired to ask the same questions? I already told you: I don't know. I'm a courier, I've brought you here, and my task was to bring you unharmed, which you are, well mostly. -Daario mocked, touched Jon's cheekbone which was swollen and purple from their fight. Jon shoved Daario's hand away disgusted.

Jon and Daario began to walk, almost side by side, Daario a few steps ahead leading the way and Jon following. A small platoon of Second Sons followed them closely, and when people in the streets of the busy city would see them, they would bow very discretely, lower their gazes and move to make way. Jon noticed this and understood The Second Sons were respected, and feared.

-Well, Jon Snow, what are you afraid of? -Daario asked him breaking the awkward silence of the long walk.

-What? Jon replied confused.

\- "You heard me, what are you afraid of?" I'm afraid of old age.

Jon didn't reply.

\- "Some people think it's a blessing to reach old age and die of it. I don't. I can't think of something more humiliating than not being able to even empty your own chamber pot without somebody holding you to stand steady. An age and state where you would piss and shit in your own bed like you were a baby again. No, not for me. When I go, I want it to be in a blaze of glory, fighting, or in the arms of the woman I love." – he said.

Jon still didn't reply.

-Well?

\- "I'm afraid I've made a terrible mistake" – Jon said.

Daario stopped and turned his head back to see Jon. His expression was of sorrow, confusion, pain. Daario knew exactly what Jon was talking about, and a mixture of jealousy and compassion took over him. He knew he was talking about the woman him and Jon had loved, that he still loved, but Jon had murdered her, betrayed her, cowardly. But he could also see the inner conflict Jon had with this. He could tell he still mourned her, and quite possibly, still loved her.

Daario didn't say a word and signaled his soldiers to keep walking.

Jon sighed, and resumed his march as well.

They reached the entrance of a huge building, it was nothing like he had seen before. It looked like a castle, a fortress, but the decoration suggested it wasn't a Lord's bastion, but something else. The enormous fire on top of the building was more intense as they approached, and the large pillars that supported the structure were impressing, with intricate decorations carved on stone, as if a story was being told through those carvings.

In the center of the building, right below the entrance, he could see the imposing seal of what seemed to be the heart of the entire place: a heart in flames. A human heart. Jon frowned, he knew that symbol wasn't new, that he had seen it somewhere before. And then he remembered, he actually had. It was in Stannis Baratheon's banners. His banner was the exact same burning heart, but with the Baratheon sigil inside, a crowned stag. Then he understood. This must be a temple of the Lord of Light. Stannis was devoted to the Lord beyond the Narrow Sea, and Melissandre, the Red Woman as Ser Davos would call her, was a priestess of that order. In fact, she had brought him back to life with the powers given by this deity.

A man hit him hard in the back, Jon had stopped to see the symbol of the Lord of Light for a few seconds, and the soldiers taking him inside reminded him he had to keep walking unless he was told otherwise.

They entered the building, crossed some halls, and made it to the main hall. The sun was setting and the light was more and more dim, the light came from the torches lit inside and some fire pits that were placed in some corners. When he entered, it reminded him of Dragonstone's main hall, when he had seen Dany for the first time. His heart ached and his body trembled with that memory.

In the middle of the hall was a large fire pit, torches were placed in every pillar, and in the corners some more fire pits, smaller than the one in the middle. In front of him, there were stairs that were leading to a kind of throne. A throne that had the shape of the burning heart he had seen. Nobody sat in it. In fact, there was nobody in that hall. As soon as he entered, Daario commanded his soldiers to wait outside, closed the doors and walked to the foot of the stairs, and if he was waiting for commands.

-I've been expecting you – a voice said.

-Who's that? Asked Jon

-Oh we haven't met, rest assured. - Replied the female voice, it came from a far corner behind the stars of the throne. A slim, tall silhouette appeared clearer. Jon adjusted his eyes to the new light and could tell this was a Red Priestess. Her clothing was almost identical to Melissandre's. She was also wearing a peculiar necklace that made a contrast with her very pale skin.

He looked into her eyes and saw her. Pale skin, he's never seen eyes as green as hers. Her lips were rather thin, and her hair was tied in a know, red hair. The same shade Ygritte had. He smiled.

-Who are you? – asked Jon

-My name is Kinvara, I'm the High Priestess of this temple. Welcome to the Red Temple, and to Volantis, Jon Snow.

-Are you the one you sent these men to bring me here?

-Yes, and no.

-Explain yourself.

Kinvara smiled, she found Jon impetuosity amusing.

-Yes, because I said the words. No, because it's not my command. I'm only a messenger.

-If it's not your command, then who gave the order?

-The Lord of Light.

Jon sneered. This angered Kinvara.

-Jon Snow, may I ask you something?

-Can I say no?

-When that boy sunk that blade into your heart, in presence of all your sworn brothers, what did you feel?

_How the bloody hell does she know about that?_– he asked himself.

Kinvara's eyes were looking straight at his. He didn't dare to look away, and he felt uneasy to have her eyes fixed relentelsy on his own.

-Pain. Surprise. Then, nothing.

-When you were dead, what did you see? What did you feel?

-I saw nothing. Felt nothing.

-Do you dare to say there is nothing after this life?

-I don't know, but I didn't see nothing.

-When you came back to life, what was your first thought, your first feeling?

-I was shocked. Angry. Bitter. I felt betrayed. I wanted justice.

-And you had it. You hanged all the mutineers. Spared nobody, not even that young boy, the one who performed de coup de grace.

-No.

-Why not?

-Because they betrayed their Lord Commander.

-Ah. - Kinvara smiled, and turned back to see the flames.

Jon was puzzled. What's the point of all those questions? He supposed that Kinvara somehow met Melissandre and she had told him about his miraculous return to life.

-Why do you think you are here, Jon Snow? Kinvara asked while she continued seeing the flames.

-I don't know.

-Yes, you do. Say it.

-I'm here to be executed.

-For what?

-For treason.

-What kind of treason?

-I murdered the Queen.

-What Queen?

-Daenerys Targaryen.

A moment of silence.

-Following the same logic on how you acted, it's correct. You murdered Daenerys Targaryen even though you pledged allegiance to her. You committed treason, just like those men betrayed you and murdered you. You executed them, you said it yourself they deserved no mercy, not even the young boy. So you believe that you shall be judged by your same moral code.

Jon clenched his teeth, he braced his inner self, knowing this was his end.

-However,…. Kinvara turned to see him.

-You are not here to be executed.

Jon frowned, his expression was puzzled.

-If not, what am I here for? Why would anybody take the bother to find me, abduct me, and bring me to this continent? I have no debts here.

-Oh but you do. You have an enormous debt.

-With who?

-The Lord of Light. You owe Him your life.

Jon was silent.

-And you shall repay him. That is why you are here now.

Jon was not following this strange woman.

-My purpose was fulfilled. I gathered the armies to fight the Night King, and he was defeated. Not by my blade, by my sister's, but my whole purpose was to save everybody from the Long Night, and we did it. We won.

-No. That was not your purpose. That was your sister's purpose. Even though she had never had the need to be brought back to life, some men were specifically brought back to protect her and help her do it. Your sister's fate was to defeat death. Yours wasn't.

Jon chuckled, in a way he felt insulted. The gods knew he loved Arya more than any of his brothers or sisters, but he felt disrespected. He commanded the army. He gathered such army, he convinced Daenerys to forge an alliance with him. If it wasn't for him, they'd all be dead. _"But it's true, I didn't kill the Night king. It was Arya. I helped. She did it."_– his inner self said.

-So what is my purpose? He asked.

-I can't tell you.

-Jon once again sneered.

-But I can show you. - Kinvara stretched her hand, inviting him to join her.

Jon looked at Daario who was standing like a statue all along. He moved his head towards Kinvara to tell him to go to her. Jon obeyed.

He stood next to her. –Look into the flames, Jon Snow, what do you see? -

I see nothing but the flames dancing in front of me.

-Keep looking, focus. What do you see?

Jon was losing his patience. Then, he began to see shaped in the flames. He frowned, and focused on what he was seeing. He felt the same angst he felt when he was reviving.

-I see chains…

-What else?

-I see a large sword, being covered in chains, fighting desperately to cut them all, but with each chain, two more are born… armies clashing, brother against brother, lover against lover… chaos, madness… I see the silhouette of a person, forming from ashes… taking that sword…

Jon gasped. His breathing came in small gasps, what he had seen was terrifying.

-Now you know, Jon Snow, why you have been brought here.

-I don't understand…. What is the meaning of what I saw? What part do I play in all this? He asked.

-You have a very important part to play, along with another.

-Another? Jon mumbled. Who? He asked.

As he said who, he hard soft, very soft steps approaching him, then stopped. He felt the hairs of the back of his neck stand. His heart smashed against his frame, his stomach felt a knot, his knees were weak, and his hand started to tremble. He didn't need to turn back to know who was behind him. He felt her. He knew the sound of her steps, the sound of her breathing. He smelled the unequivocal scent she had. But it was impossible.

Jon closed his eyes and turned back, very softly. He opened his eyes, and gasped. A ghost was standing before him.

Daenerys Targaryen, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the Unburnt, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons stood in front of him. She looked differently from how he remembered her. Her hair was shorter, her braids were undone, and she looked a bit more robust. But her same purple eyes, her same porcelain skin, her pink full lips, it was all there. She was wearing a massive dark blue cloak that covered her entire body, he could only see her head and neck.

Jon had no idea what kind of expression he had in his face, but her expression was blank. He couldn't see anything from her. Not hate. Not revenge. Not resentment. Nothing. Her eyes stared at him, digging into his very soul. He felt those eyes as two burning fireballs being shot at him. He couldn't bear it. He lowered his gaze and closed his eyes.

-This isn't real. This isn't happening – he said.

-You are not the only one who has returned from the dead, Jon Snow – Daenerys said coldly. Her voice was also as he remembered. Only this time, her tone was indifferent.

Jon lifted up and understood. When Drogon had taken her after he had done the deed, he always wondered where he had taken her body. Now he knew where he flew with her, and what happened to her.

Jon didn't notice what he was doing but in a dream kind of state, took a few steps and lifted his hand as if to reach for her, to touch her hair. Daenerys pupils dilated and she moved back softly. Before he knew it, he felt a sharp pain in his side. Daario, out of nowhere, had struck him in his ribs, making him flinching in pain.

-You will never lay a finger on her again, Jon Snow – said Daario.

Daenerys lifted her gaze to Daario, frowning and not agreeing to what happened. Daario looked at her defiantly, he did not apologize for what he had just done.

Jon chuckled, recovering from the pain, he reincorporated, took a few steps back and stood where he initially was.

Jon understood how the situation had changed. Daenerys was there, alive, standing in front of him, but she was another woman, not the one he had known. She felt nothing for him. He would never touch her again. They were to join forces for the greater good, whatever that may be, but that's it.

-Now that you have seen each other again, let me explain a little further, Jon Snow. The true enemy, the one you saw in the flames, is none other than Bran Stark. – Kinvara said as the flames reflected in her emerald eyes.

Jon laughed, looked at everybody and just said - "Bran? Enemy?" -he kept laughing.

Kinvara, Daenerys and Daario looked at him serious and grave.

Jon finished laughing and said - "This is ridiculous."

-The Three Eyed Raven set in motion everything that brought the downfall of Daenerys, your own disgrace Jon, and after killing the Night King, he set the path free to govern among people's minds and will.

Jon was silent. His face had a grimace that showed annoyance and disbelief.

Think for a moment. His powers are growing out of control, and so is his desire for an idealistic mankind, what he thinks is good. He plants thoughts in people's minds, doubts, fears, and they blossom into hate. He made Daenerys lose control of the situation and made her do the atrocity she did in Kings Landing. She made her prey of ambition, insecurity.

Daenerys lowered her gaze. Jon noticed and it was the first time he had seen her like that, ashamed and defeated.

-I… This is insane. – replied Jon.

-It's very late, and I believe her Grace is tired. We will resume this meeting in the morning. There are quarters arranged for you, Jon Snow. You'll understand of course that until we don't fully trust you, you will remain under vigilance.

Jon sighed.

-I wish to speak to her Grace, if I may –Jon said.

Daenerys looked again at him, intently. He met her gaze, and this time, he didn't lower it.

-I don't think so – Daario replied, ready to take him to his quarters.

-Let him – Dany waved at him.

Daario was furious. - Very well, but I will stand in the corner of the room with my dagger in my hand. If he tries to touch you, I will aim to his head, and I doubt the Lord of Light will take the trouble to bring him back again. - Daario was serious.

Dany smiled, and nodded. Daario gave Jon one last look, warning him that he was not joking.

Daenerys was awfully quiet. She stood there and waited for Jon to speak, but words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

-I…. – Jon began trying to speak.

Daenerys raised an eyebrow.

-I'm so sorry…. – he said, as tears began flooding his eyes.

Daenerys was pinching her own leg to shove her tears back into her eyes. The Gods knew she was still in love with this man, despite of everything that has happened. And she felt her child jump inside her womb, as if the voice of the father had startled the baby. Daenerys involuntarily shook, and Jon noticed.

-Are you all right? – he asked

Daenerys nodded.

-Well? Are you going to say anything to me? - He asked, his voice dripping remorse and shame.

-There is nothing to be said, Jon Snow. You are here for a greater purpose, as am I.

-I never… I didn't… -Jon began trying to form a thought, very ineptly.

-Stop. It's all useless now. What is done, it's done.

Jon frowned, he was frustrated, sad, thrilled to see her live but he felt his honor was lost forever.

-If you don't mind, please tell me what is my role in all this. – Jon asked, changing his tone to a more formal one. Daenerys noticed, and her heart sunk. She was trying with all her strength to restrain herself from hugging him, kissing him senseless. Their love had been her doom, and this time she was adamant in not letting anything get in her way to accomplish her mission, not even him.

Daenerys lowered her gaze, and began undoing the laces of her gown. Jon looked at her, he didn't understand what she was doing.

She undid the last lace of her dress, letting it fall in the ground, revealing her completely naked body in front of him.

Jon´s breathing stopped. His heart dropped to the very minimum. Jon dropped to his knees when he saw her.

He saw her white, porcelain body, but it wasn't the same body he remembered taking several times in the time they were together. He saw the stab wound right below her breast, a deep, clean but deadly wound. But what had caused him a huge impact, was her womb. It was a full womb. Her breasts were also larger, and overall, she seemed to glow. Daenerys was expecting, and he immediately knew the child was his.


End file.
